New Blood
by Okinuj
Summary: Dublin, 1919. Sybil gets married, Thomas meets a tasty young thing, almost nothing happens the way it was supposed to, and the family goes back to Downton with a new recruit.


**Hi everyone. I'm Okinuj and this is my first fanfiction here. I'm French so have mercy and don't stone me to death if my English isn't perfect, but if you do see something really unforgivable please tell me. Also, I welcome all kinds of constructive reviews, so if you liked my fiction, I'd love to know it, and if you didn't, please do tell me so that I can improve. Thanks for reading. I hope you'll enjoy this ^^**

**DO NOT READ THIS FICTION IF:**

**1 – Romance between men offends your conscience. **

**2 – You've just started to watch Downton Abbey, because this fiction starts between S02E08 and S02E09 (also known as Christmas Special 2011), in a world where Lord Grantham actually decided to – SPOILER ALERT, you've been warned - attend Sybil's wedding. **

**By the way I own everything. In fact, I own Downton Abbey. Yes, I'm the Earl of Grantham and everything I write is real. There is absolutely nothing fictional about this… fiction. Hm. Yes. That's right. er...**

**Moving on.**

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**NEW BLOOD**

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**Revenge is Sweet**

One fact Thomas actually liked about Dublin: you're there as soon as you leave the boat, and you don't have too long a car travel before arriving to your destination. And that's truly priceless for someone like him, who'd really want to avoid having Molesley throwing up on his livery a second time. One humiliation had been more than enough for the entire trip. He should have listened to O'Brien and kept away from the guy.

"Good sailor my foot."

"You were saying?"

"Nothing, your Lordship" he replied, and quickly helped him into the automobile.

Let's try to be positive Thomas Barrow, he thought. You are in Dublin, the weather is rather warm and sunny for a late September and you are on your way to celebrate Lady Sybil's wedding. Everything would be quite perfect if the kindest person of the family you serve wasn't marrying an Irish chauffeur you despise and if you weren't still smelling Molesley stench on your shirt, despite all your efforts to wash it off. Yes, quite perfect.

No, it wasn't working. He needed to have one of the maids wash his clothes once they arrived. There was no way he would ever let that disgustingly whiny thing of a valet ruin his trip to Ireland. The opportunities to have a few days of freedom without Carson to kill his joy were rare enough.

The Family had decided to stay at Northern Place; an estate ran by the Eleson family, which was somehow acquainted to his Lordship. Not exactly the ideal moment to entertain, with that Irish Independence venture going on, but it was _"still better than to stay in a filthy hotel, or worse, in the house of a Branson"._ His Lordship's words, exactly. To comfort himself, Thomas was vaguely hoping that the wedding would offend them both enough for it to become a bonding moment. Maybe he'll even keep him as his permanent valet.

The entire staff of Northern Place was waiting in line as the Eleson were welcoming the Family. That didn't come as a surprise; Thomas was used to the custom. What he did not expect, however, was for Lady Sybil to be part of the reception committee. He didn't think she'd leave the house of Branson's old mom before the wedding. Her presence there was a "_lovely surprise",_ said Lady Mary, and Thomas could not agree more. With her shining eyes and blushing cheeks, she was positively radiant with happiness and excitement.

Thomas had always found Lady Sybil to be sweet and beautiful. After the war, he decided to add brilliant and hardworking to her character's description. And when she proudly went on with her ridiculous idea to marry far beneath her status, he gladly agreed in his heart to call her brave and strong-willed, which she always was. Regardless of her questionable choice of husband, he admiringly witnessed her disappoint everyone's expectation and leave England with a smile.

Which was why he was so glad to see her again, happier than ever and irresistibly endearing in her bright blue dress now that the ban was over. Thomas was certain that, hadn't he been gay, she would have been the kind of woman he would have fallen for. And she would have broken his heart beyond repair.

But he was gay. How fortunate.

How _very_ fortunate indeed, because otherwise he would definitely have blushed when Lady Sybil decided to greet him with her brightest smile and to say:

"Mr Barrow, I'm_ so_ glad you're here. I was afraid Papa would have you remain with Mr Carson as the house is open to visitors."

"Thank you M'Lady, for your concern. And no, I will attend to his Lordship during his stay here, Mr Carson is... well off without me, I believe."

She answered to that with a barely hidden laugh and as she went back to her sisters, Thomas noticed some of the staff members watching him with a united expression of shocked haughtiness. He lowered his head to hide a chuckle. If some maids disapproved of Lady Sybil showing him kindness, he couldn't care less. He was about to go and help the others when his eyes met those of a young footman, probably sixteen. That one wasn't glaring. No, his pale eyes were gazing at him with curiosity and for a second Thomas wondered if it was the Irish wind that made the boy blush so much, or if…

But no, he shouldn't get his hopes up, not for so little, and certainly not so soon. His misfortune with Mr Pamuk taught him to be more cautious, and to refrain from jumping to conclusions. He looked away and grabbed a case. Before he pulled it, Thomas noticed that the locker had been broken, probably in the boat as they were all facing the unexpected storm. Now anyone who would venture to take the heavy load without knowing would most likely scatter Mr... Matthew Crawley's belongings on the dusty ground. He held back a smirk. Scanning his surroundings, he saw that Mr Puke was only carrying one suitcase and was about to step inside. _Not so fast_

"Molesley," he froze midway and hesitantly glanced over his shoulder. "Don't waste your free hand and take this one too, will you. It belongs to Mr Crawley."

The feeble thing hesitated a moment, but then came back to grab the case, and Thomas took a few steps back and pretended to be busy untying another piece of luggage from the car. He took on as much weight as he could bear and waited for the firework in excited silence. Five, four, Molesley pulls the case out the car, two, one...

During the next thirty seconds, everyone witnessed with horror - or delight - a wonderful chaos mingling crashing books, rustling cloths and crumbling sheets of paper. Last, the distinctive sound of breaking glass caught Thomas' attention. He looked up and repressed a smile. An inkwell. _Brilliant_. The frail valet looked as if he wanted to bury himself six feet underneath the ground. Frozen in place, he couldn't detach his horrified eyes from the slowly blackening pages and shirts. He raised his own load and as he passed by the poor thing, he said in a tone of fake concern "You're in trouble, Molesley, you're in deep trouble. How on earth will you ever be able to make up for this?"

_Revenge is sweet._

As he came back, he saw that the local staff had finally decided to help unloading. _So much for spontaneity._ One of them, about his own age, was kneeling down to help Mr Puke save what was left of Mr Crawley's belongings. Thomas hoped the future Earl of Grantham had taken more than one suitcase for the wedding, for his sake and for his valet's. That Northern Place's servant was wiping the ink with what seemed to be his own handkerchief. How noble. How... _irritating. _

"That's Daniel Harrison." Thomas almost jumped and saw the young servant standing right behind him, holding a single case with both hands._ How long have you been here? _"Sir Eleson's valet."

Without thinking of a proper answer, Thomas simply nodded. The boy gazed at him with his wide blue eyes. They were wet and shiny, as those of a child who struggling to wake up. The footman was so short in comparison of Thomas' stature that he had to hold his chin up to properly meet his eyes. Thomas caught himself studying his handsome features and stepped back. The servant held his hand between them and said. "I'm Liam Allen, First footman." He shook I firmly "M. Barrow, his Lordship's valet."

_His Lordship valet. _His tongue caressed the words with great elation. This title gave him a sense of importance. He was there for a reason. Thomas wanted to beam as Liam's expression bloomed in blatant admiration, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I envy you." He admitted openly. Thomas dipped his head in polite appreciation and as they entered the house to carry their load of luggage upstairs, he replied "Your position is more than acceptable for a boy your age. What are you, fifteen?" Probably older, but he liked to emphasize on the fact that he looked young and inexperienced. "I'm sixteen" _Nailed it. _

They walked in the bedroom. Thomas was vaguely surprised that both of them had picked cases belonging to his Lordship. "Sixteen!" He exclaimed in a cry of fake surprise"You could be happy of being a simple footman, instead of a mere hall boy. First footman... that's a really good job for someone so young." He started to organize the suits in the wardrobe. Behind him, Liam said "I know... and I like my job, but it's not the same as being a valet. I really can't wait to be promoted!"

He certainly knew the feeling. But he still found the young thing to be a little ambitious for his age. "What's the rush? You've got all the time in the word. A little hard work won't kill you."

"It's not about the work, I don't mind it. It's more…"He sighed. _An aspiring valet with real motivation, that's new._ Intrigued, Thomas turned on his heel and faced him. Liam was leaning against the wall near the window, scanning the horizon "like, serving just one man, you know." He turned his gaze back to Thomas'. "Looking after him, only him and for years!" His eyes expressed passionate determination. "Do you know what I mean?"

Thomas couldn't say anything. He was genuinely trying his best to control himself. _Do not jump to conclusions, do not jump to conclusions. _Finally, he ventured to reply with a silent nod. Liam reacted with a sigh of relief and a wide smile. "I knew we would get along! Especially after I saw you give the broken case to the other servant!"

"I don't see what you mean." lied Thomas, so easily. An old habit of his: lies would often slip out of his mouth before he could ever have the time to consider telling the truth. Liam gave him a smile of complicity. "Don't worry, I won't tell." Somehow Thomas felt like trusting him. He smiled back. For a moment they only stared at each other in mutual understanding. Then the boy spoke again as he walked across the room toward him. "What did he do to you?"

Thomas pressed his lips together to repress a laugh before answering. "Well... as you can probably smell from where you stand," He _was_ standing pretty close, "he vomited on me and, by doing so, he ruined my superb livery."

His expression went from surprise to hilarity and then he burst into a frank laugh. Thomas was almost shocked by the noise that boy allowed his joy to make and chuckled involuntarily. Nearly tearing up, Liam took a step back and cried "So that's the reason why you smell like this!" Astonished, Thomas pondered whether he should feel offended by that last remark, but at the moment, all he could feel was barely controllable excitement. He decided to play his game of truth and dare "What, did you think that was my natural scent?" The boy's laughter doubled its intensity. "More like" he tried to say "more like something happened and you were too embarrassed to tell."

_Well, that's not entirely false._ Thomas examined Liam expression as the young footman was trying to catch his breath and he felt a warm tingling spreading across his face. _For God's sake Thomas pull yourself together!_

"Come," decided Liam as he reached his arm to drag him away from the room, "we need to get rid of that stench before the Earl of Grantham wishes to change for dinner."

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**That was the first chapter of New Blood. I hope you enjoyed it. I intend to update my story on a regular basis, probably once a week. So see you next Friday! **

**Until then, feel free to react to this first chapter by writing a review, and I'll reply as soon as possible.  
**

**_Okinuj ^^**


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